


spooky how the time flies when...

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Consentacles, Deepthroating, Dubious Consentacles, Other, PWP, Unqualified Fraudster Gets In Over His Head; Exciting Monsterfucking Ensues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26389819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: He should have asked for help, backup, anything. Instead, he's getting fucked by the nicest monster he's ever met, and it's not human.
Relationships: Gilderoy Lockhart/Tentacle Monster
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: Jump Scare 2020





	spooky how the time flies when...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fencesit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencesit/gifts).



> Hope this is enjoyable deaaar

He probably shouldn't have told them he could do it just fine. But he'd had a feeling the people in the room were too high a risk to his cover to ask for the help he'd need — he suspecting obliviating Snape or that old McGonagall owl wouldn't be nearly the same as the dozens of other, much more confused, much less gifted souls he'd relieved of their memories in the past. 

But this was pushing his luck. He should've known. 

The position he found himself in now though? He couldn't do much about it other than cry, for help, or in hopes of letting his increasing desperation out of his mind somehow. 

Being tied up had been one of his things, back in the day, when he was being pushed around by partners who never cared to know if he really liked what they were doing to him — being tied up still felt safe in those moments. Nice even. But now. Now he was tied up with limbs rather than magical rope, and limbs of a creature he'd only ever heard off, never learnt to fight, only ever figured he'd pick a random but qualified wizard to do it for him if the need arose. 

That had been… quite the mistake, Gilderoy. Quite the huge, gigantic mistake. 

His bindings were wet and slippery, buzzing with a magical energy that only ever was spoken of in legends and only ever encountered in dreams — a magical energy reserved to creatures ancient enough to bury the world in the cave where their mouths laid, to swallow existence in the black holes where their eyes were expected to be, yet never were found. 

He was trapped. He was done for. He had no one to call, nor didn't think anyone would come even if he did call. 

He should've risked his cover. Should've taken that idiot — scary, so scary — Snape with him and dealt with the cleanup when he crossed that bridge. 

He was trapped, and his clothes were melting, bloody melting!

They fell to the muddy grounds with plopping sounds, turned to wet goo by a heat that never somehow burnt his skin. He supposed he should be thankful. Not being burnt was something to be thankful for, right? Right?? 

"Let me go! Let me out! Let me go or else I will… hex you! Curs—" 

As it turned out, the limbs of the creature with no name nor face were pointier in their ends. Just slimmer enough to slip past Gilderoy's lips and then expand, stuffing his mouth and grating against the overly sensitive flesh of his throat. Gilderoy gagged, and when he did, he cried, for the moment he thought he couldn't take it, would die this way — airways obstructed by a tentacly thing fucking into them — another limb came up to caress the outside of his throat, rubbing it like one does to help along an animal trying to swallow something too big for them. 

It took a minute, but eventually, it clicked, and Gilderoy's throat relaxed, and his gag reflex stopped convulsing, and the contact in and out of him turned… almost nice? Soothing. He closed his eyes. 

And then they snapped open again. Because another limb, that felt so much bigger in comparison to where it was trying to fit, was toying with his arse. Fuck fuck fuck. Shit. 

But another, much slimmer than the others wound around his limp, soft cock, and started pumping, and every slide back and forth bumped into his balls, and Gilderoy properly wept this time — he hadn't been touched there in ages, and he shouldn't like it. He really shouldn't. This was dangerous, and he still very much thought he could die before whatever this was was over, and his lover of the moment did not even have a face to stare into, did not have a brain to wipe of their memories, did not talk, nor react to his pleas however garbled they were now that a tentacle as big as his calf was stuck down his throat, but he did. He started liking it, and by the time his cock was fully hard, the tentacle toying with the rim of his arsehole was slipping past it, and Gilderoy was completely out of it. 

He could die any minute. He was free.


End file.
